In the Sky with Diamonds
by Caseyrocksmore
Summary: -"For as long as he could remember, Artie had always wanted to be a dad..." -For Jessi, my amazing Beta.-


_A/N: I give credit where credit is due: my friend Jessi helped me get through my bouts of writers block, beta'd this entire thing, and handed me inspiration and encouragement. So, thank you, dearest friend! This one is dedicated to you.  
Also, I find it important to mention that I own absolutely nothing; I love the Beatles, but I sure as hell don't own a single right to their songs/lyrics, I just borrowed them for the purpose of this fic. I also don't own Glee, Jenna Ushkowitz, and _especially _Kevin McHale... sigh... if ONLY!_

* * *

**In the Sky with Diamonds**

* * *

_i._

When Artie Abrams was six, his sister Elizabeth was born. He watched the way his parents looked at her when they brought her home from the hospital, with such unconditional love in their eyes. Unlike most children his age, he didn't feel jealous over the sudden change in attention-getting; he looked upon his sister's face with the same unconditional love that his parents did.

He saw the same look in his mother's eyes every night when she sang him to sleep with _Magic Carpet Ride _from Aladdin, and in his father's eyes when he got that winning goal in soccer. Artie was only six, but he decided then that he couldn't wait to be a dad. He wanted to love something so unconditionally, like the way his parents loved him and Lizzie.

* * *

_ii._

When Artie was eight, just two years later, his family's world came crashing down. The entire Abram's household was affected by the accident, even two-year-old Lizzie, who kept asking when Artie would be able to pick her up again. No one had the heart to tell her that he might never be able to.

Adjusting to the wheelchair took most of Artie's energy, and he had very little time to think. When he was finally tucked into his own bed, four months after the accident, his mother sang to him, just like before. Except this time, she left before she could finish the song, tears welling in her eyes. Artie had time to think that night.

He hoped he would never cause anyone that much pain again, and that got him to thinking; he'd always wanted to be a dad. But how on earth would be able to do the kinds of things that dads did while he was stuck in his new wheelchair? He couldn't teach his kid to play catch, or soccer, or Frisbee. He would be able to show them how to ride a bike. He wouldn't be able to pick them up and swing them around, or hold them up as they took their first steps. He couldn't be a father, ever. It just couldn't happen.

Artie, for the first time since the accident, really felt as if his life was over. Before, he had been kind of bummed that he wouldn't be able to play sports anymore. Now, he realised slowly, he really couldn't do much of anything. And that just made him sad.

* * *

_iii._

When Artie was ten, he had basically learned to cope with most of the basic challenges being a paraplegic entailed. He could get in and out his chair by himself, into bed by himself with the use of a strategically placed support bar, and even into the shower. He still went to therapy every week, still had to have doctors constantly poke and prod at him, but he was adjusting.

The fact that he knew most of the hospital staff by their first names was something that always bothered his mother. The fact that he was close enough to _use_ them, however, was what bothered him. His physiotherapist's name was Maria, and his doctor's name was Jerry. The nurse who asked him the routine questions ("_Have you been exercising your legs every night before bed?_" "_No problem passing urine?_" "_How much pain are you in, on a scale of one to ten?_" "_No more headaches, right?_") was named Molly, but sometimes nurse Christine would do it if it wasn't Molly's shift.

"Hello, Arthur," Jerry greeted after Molly had taken his information for the billionth time. He gave Artie a friendly smile, which Artie returned. "How're you feeling?"

"Fine," Artie replied, same as always. "I had one headache, but that was from staying up playing videogames." He laughed, and Jerry laughed too, ruffling his hair.

"Are you having any trouble at school?"

Artie shook his head. "Nah, they have a ramp installed now. That makes it a lot easier." He smiled. "How's Sasha?" Sasha was Jerry's six-month-old daughter. She looked so much like her father it was remarkable; Artie saw new pictures of her every time he went to Jerry's office. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous that he would never have that.

"She's amazing, always trying to talk," Jerry said with a chuckle, "Her first word was Dada, you know."

Artie sighed.

* * *

_iv._

When Artie was thirteen, he met Tina.

It was the first day of high school, and he was sitting alone at his lunch table. He was used to people being frightened by his wheelchair, never wanting to be close to him. His friends had slowly drifted away over the years, giving excuses he didn't want to hear, didn't _need_ to hear, but heard anyway. His fourteenth birthday was fast approaching, and he had no friends to share it with. He picked at his wilted salad dejectedly.

"C-c-can I s-sit with y-you?"

Artie's head shot up, and his eyes met a pair of brown ones. The first thing he noticed about Tina was how pretty she was, with soft brown eyes and a shy smile. The second thing he noticed was that she was Goth, dressed in black and skulls and safety pins. The last thing he noticed was that she spoke with a stutter.

"Yeah, sure."

Those words marked the beginning of a friendship. Artie and Tina stuck by each other and helped each other through the woes of being freshmen, and the pressures of high school in general. Tina's stutter never seemed to be at the forefront of that friendship. In fact, he rarely even noticed it. If he ever mentioned it, she would go quiet and seemed embarrassed, so he tried to avoid the topic. He was the same way about talking about his accident. It was like some unspoken rule that it went unsaid.

Artie was glad he had someone to invite over to eat cake with on his birthday. Lizzie absolutely loved her, and his mother kept giving him little smiles whenever Tina was looking the other way. She fit in great with his family. Even his dad liked her, and he was always pretty uptight about who his friends were. (Artie assumed it was because his father didn't want him to get hurt, like he had when his last "best friend" decided he was done putting up with the wheelchair kid.)

Tina easily became an integrated part of his life, like his wheelchair or his guitar. It was no wonder he soon found himself falling for her.

* * *

_v._

When Artie was still fourteen, he had a few thoughts pop into his head.

For the first time, Artie asked his mom if he could talk to Jerry alone for his appointment. She seemed a little worried about it, but Artie had some uncomfortable questions to ask his doctor, and he'd really rather that his mother _wasn't _present when he asked them.

Artie came right out and said it, almost immediately after her mother left. "Will I ever be able to have kids, Jerry?"

Jerry's answer hadn't been exactly hopeful. There were a lot of '_maybe_'s and '_possibly_'s in his explantion, but never a yes or no. He did assure Artie that he'd be able to have sex, when the time came, but the chances of ever being able to _conceive_ a child... didn't look good.

"There's always a chance, Arthur," Jerry explained, sitting at his desk and tapping his pen against it. "But I can't make any definitive promises."

No promises.

Artie's heart sunk to the floor. All this time, he had been worried about what kind of father he would make if he ever got around to having kids. Now, he realised, he might never even get the chance to _try_. And that was heartbreaking.

* * *

_vi._

When Artie was sixteen, he and Tina had their first date. It didn't end well, and for weeks afterward, they could barely even be in the same room together. It was uncomfortable, but mostly it was just _unbearable_. Artie felt his heart break every time she turned away from him with that sad look in her eyes. So he apologised.

Their friendship slowly became what it once was, though perhaps a little tenser and a little less trusting. Artie knew he still had feelings for Tina, but he had no idea how to tell her. Would she still like him like she had? Or, now that she could be _normal_, would she decide to find herself a normal boyfriend? One with working legs that could take her dancing, bowling and all that other sort of stuff that couples did?

"Artie, are you mad at me?" Tina asked one afternoon, her voice soft and worried. Her eyes were scanning his face for some sign of aggression, and her fingers were absently twirling the blue streak in her hair.

"No, Tina," he said quickly, his eyes meeting hers from over the math text book he was holding. He closed the book and looked at her quizzically. "Why?"

"You've been acting... weird," she told him, her hands falling to her lap and clasping each other lightly. "I just wanted to know if I did something wrong."

"You haven't done anything wrong," he admitted, looking down at his feet. "I just... I've been thinking."

Tina chuckled. "Uh-oh, that can't be good!"

Artie gave her a small smile, shifting his weight in his chair a little. The fact that they were at the park, in the middle of the afternoon, made him feel slightly awkward. Young families with plenty of children ran wild throughout the grassy area, as well as near the playground, and while they were under a shady patch of trees, he couldn't help but notice the curious glances shot their way. Small children tended to be fascinated by his chair, before they became afraid of it.

"I don't know about that. Wasn't it my quick thinking that kept you from failing algebra?" Tina blushed and Artie made a mental note to brag more about that later. "But yeah... I've been thinking a lot lately. Mostly about us."

Tina looked up at him from where she sat, leaning against a tall oak. "Us?" she asked, and he couldn't help but wonder if that was a hopeful tone in her voice that he heard. "What about us?"

"Tina... do you want to try that whole... _dating_ thing, again?" She smiled, and absently patted his foot. (He wished he could have felt it.)

"I'd love to."

* * *

_vii._

When Artie was eighteen and a senior in high school, he and Tina made love for the first time. It wasn't perfect, but he tried to make the night romantic at any rate. He thought he failed, but Tina would tell him later that his efforts hadn't been in vain; though, of course, she was already madly in love with him long before he tried to serenade her with_ Drops of Jupiter_. The fact that it was clumsy, awkward, and resulted in more than a few laughs seemed to slip her mind when she retold it.

The fact that they were intimate changed nothing. He still wondered every day how he had managed to snag the most beautiful girl in the world— how he had roped _Tina_, of all people, into being his girlfriend. Their weekly movie-nights continued every Friday night, and he still walked her to all of her classes, carrying her books in his lap. She still pushed his wheelchair when his arms were tired (and sometimes, when they were not), and she still helped him get himself unstuck when the jocks got particularly happy with the duct tape and the flagpole.

He got into the habit of singing her their song, _Let It Be_ by the Beatles, over the phone each night, until he could hear her breathing regulate and he knew she was asleep. Sometimes, he would just listen to her breathing; the fact that she was breathing seemed to be a miracle to him. He had never felt so lucky.

Graduation seemed to speed closer each day they spent at McKinley, and it was in those last few months that Artie got to thinking; what would graduation mean for him and Tina? Surely, they would go to the same college and stay together, be the happy couple they'd been for the last two years. He could only wish he were that lucky.

With the end of summer nearing, Artie felt like the calendar was playing tricks on him. College was looming, and for once, he was not excited over it. Tina's parents had gotten her into a great school— but that school happened to be about three hundred miles away from the one where he would be attending. Their post-graduation bliss seemed to be cut short, with all the packing and planning and tearful nights spent cuddling on the Abram's couch.

"I'm going to miss you," took on a whole new meaning, as it was uttered fearfully with just days left before Tina's departure. Artie kissed her on the forehead, softly telling her that everything would be okay, that they would make it, because they had made it through _everything_. There was no way that something as stupid as _distance_ was going to break them apart.

The day that Tina boarded her train, he was at the station to bid her farewell; her parents were nowhere in sight, of course. Every night she called him with the words, "I can't sleep," on her tongue, and every night, he sang _Let It Be_ to her. Every night, he listened to her breathing on the other end of the line for longer than he would have, had she been still living four blocks away. But everything was different now; sky-high phone bills mattered not, as long as he could listen to her breathing.

Fate seemed to be conspiring against them and their blossoming love, for no matter how many emails and phone calls they exchanged in the following months, things were changing. Artie found himself immersed in his studies, and Tina found herself occupied with the job she'd been required to get in order to pay for her apartment in Pittsburgh.

When Christmas rolled around, and they met again in Lima, things felt different. It was only when Artie brushed her hair back from her ear did he remember why they were going through the misery that was a long-distance relationship. She sighed and cuddled up next to him on the Abram's couch, their Friday-night movie playing distantly in the background, with neither really watching it. It felt the same, in so many ways, and yet so ferociously inadequate. They had only two weeks together until Artie found himself again at the train station, kissing her goodbye and telling her to call him when she got home safely.

* * *

_viii._

When Artie was nineteen, he took a train to Pittsburgh. He had a heavy weight in his pocket; a promise for a girl he felt he didn't deserve to hold back, but he knew he had to for his own survival. Life without Tina in it was unbearable for him, and maybe he was being selfish, but he loved her too much to notice.

She was totally surprised when he showed up at her door, his almost Beatles-style haircut neatly in place, and his traditional suspenders-and-belt ensemble accompanied by a suit jacket. He asked politely if he could come in.

Getting himself into her apartment took more work that it should have; while the elevator and hallway had been no problem, her foyer was carpeted with a thicker carpet, and Tina had to push her entire body weight against the back of his chair in order to get the wheels of his chair to cooperate.

"I'm so sorry, Artie," Tina apologised once they'd gotten him into the kitchen. Linoleum, thankfully, was the choice of flooring for that room, and made it easier for him to manoeuvre on his own. "I didn't expect you to ever be in here."

Artie mumbled something about it being fine, his hands absently fiddling with his gloves in his lap. Tina leaned against the counter, watching him. "As much as I love having you here, Artie," she said, looking at him almost suspiciously. "Is there a reason that you traveled three hundred miles, or...?" She trailed off, her eyes begging for an explanation.

"Tee," Artie started, looking up at her and meeting her eyes before quickly looking away and focussing on an insignificant spot on the wall beside her. "You know how much I care about you, right?" He looked back at her, only to find her shaking slightly and biting her lip. She wrapped her arms around herself, obviously fearing the worst.

"Y-you're br-breaking up with me?" she stuttered, her eyes watering. "Only _you_ would want to do this in p-person..."

Artie was flabbergasted. Not only hadn't she stuttered in _years_, but she thought he was here to _dump_ her. His eyes widened, and he waved his arms about frantically, trying to retract what she thought he'd said.

"No!" he said loudly, his heart beating rapidly. "No, no, no. Tina, I love you. Geez, this is all happening wrong..." He sighed, rolling closer to her and reaching out to take her hand. "I'm not breaking up with you. Why on _earth_ would you think that, Tina?" Her lip trembled, and even he could see how insecure she felt. Apparently, all this time apart was not doing her well at all; the little self-confidence she'd gained since they'd begun dating had somehow been drained out of her during her time in Pittsburgh.

"I just— I thought—" She threw her arms around his neck and dropped herself into his lap, apologising profusely. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you too!" She buried her nose in his shoulder. "I thought you'd f-found someone else!" She was sobbing hysterically, and Artie was rubbing her back.

"Good thing I came when I did, then! Who knows what silly things your mind can come up with when I'm not around," he laughed into her hair, wishing (not for the first time) that she'd kept her signature blue streak among the raven curls. "Geez, Tina— I love you, and I'm never going to stop loving you." He gently pulled her face away from his collar, looking into her eyes and smiling softly.

"I'm sorry, Artie, I don't know why I—"

"Shh, Tee. Let me talk for a minute." He kissed her quickly on the nose, causing her to laugh so hard she threatened to fall off his lap and onto the floor. Keeping one arm wrapped around her, holding her secure, he used his free hand to dig around in the pocket of his suit, his fingers closing around something square.

"Tina, I've known you for years, and you've always been my rock. This last year has been so hard for me, because suddenly, you're not there." Tina opened her mouth, as if to apologise again, but he shook his head, and she closed it, waiting for him to continue, her eyes looking at him anxiously. "I fell for you so easily it scares me sometimes, but I know, Tina, I _know_, that you're the only girl for me. Honestly."

He sighed, pulling the small box from his pocket. "I came here, Tina, because I've finally worked up the courage to... do this." He opened the box, and Tina's eyes grew wide. "I love you, Tee, and I want to spend the _rest of my life_ with you. Will you _please_ marry me?"

Tina simply burst into tears. (Her answer would later be clarified as a 'yes.')

* * *

_ix._

When Artie was twenty-two, he and his wife of two years had both graduated from their respective universities. He had already procured a job for himself at a musical technology company that made programs to teach music to kids. She was still looking for a new job, since she left her waitressing gig in Pittsburgh behind.

They were temporarily staying with the Abram's again ("I'm married, and I still live at my parent's house. Is that sad, or what?" Artie murmured sarcastically one afternoon.) while the house that they had purchased together was fitted with improvements that better suited Artie's particular needs. The only thing that had really changed since the last time he had lived at his parent's house was that now, he could sing _Let It Be_ to Tina while she lay beside him, and he could listen to her breathing for as long as he wanted to.

"_When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be,_" he sang softly. Tina sighed as she snuggled up to him, tucking her feet under one of his motionless legs for warmth. "_Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be._" He continued to softly hum the tune long after her eyes had closed and her grip on his t-shirt loosened, quietly serenading her in her sleep. He hoped that she could hear him and was having peaceful dreams.

With that morning came apprehension, and the air seemed to thin with anxiety as the couple dressed themselves in the early-morning light. They had talked long and hard about what they wanted for the future. It was an obvious and almost unconscious decision that they wanted kids. Tina had had a secret longing to be a mother ever since Quinn had first introduced the glee club to her beautiful little girl, and Artie's dreams of being a parent went back to long before the accident.

That particular morning, they had an appointment to see a fertility doctor. They both had some rather frightening concerns about trying to get pregnant— they'd never, _ever_ tried to be careful, and had even started _trying _to get pregnantafter their wedding, counting days and marking calendars and putting time aside on those days that they were more likely to conceive on; and yet, still nothing had happened.

Artie had brought up the concerns he'd had about his condition inhibiting their chances, and Tina had told him about the struggles her mother had had getting pregnant. It seemed as though, once again, the world was working against them, trying to stop the newlyweds from being happy.

Their last few doctor's appointments had proven their suspicions correct— their chances of conceiving naturally were very low. Jerry (because Artie refused to have a different family doctor) had referred them to a fertility doctor he was acquainted with to discuss their options.

Neither Artie nor Tina could bear the idea that they might never be parents, and were willing to do just about anything to achieve their goal; it was something they had both wanted for so long, Tina said it just seemed like God was being cruel by withholding it. Artie told her that if they were meant to be parents, there would be a way to do it. (They were not going to give up so easily.)

When they got to Dr. Fleischer's office at just after eight o'clock, they were the first appointment of the morning and got right in. The wait in the small discussion room was tense and quiet. Artie's chair was parked next to the hard plastic one Tina had sat in, and he held her hand, rubbing his thumb over the backs of her knuckles in time with _Hey Jude_ (the Beatles song currently on replay at the back of his mind).

When the doctor came in, he had a perplexed look on his face. "You're here for a consult from Dr. Wilson?"

Artie nodded quickly, gently squeezing Tina's hand. "Dr. Wilson wants us to explore all the options available before we make any decisions," he explained, though it was likely to have been in their chart. "We've been trying unsuccessfully for over a year, and Dr. Wilson warned us that there may be complications due to my paralysis, and my wife's family doesn't have the best track record either— which is why we're here, obviously."

Dr. Fleischer was still looking at our chart, his face unreadable. "I see." He looked up at us, and that was when I realised he was smiling. "It says here that you came in last week for a blood test, Mrs. Abrams?" Tina nodded silently, her fingers shaking slightly against my own. She hated doctors, hospitals, drawing blood— last week's blood test had been quite the adventure, ending in Artie singing her _Let It Be_ and her sobbing uncontrollably over a tiny prick in the vein at her elbow.

"According to our tests, your appointment here is kind of irrelevant," Mr. Fleischer told them, his voice calm. "It came back positive."

Tina blinked rapidly a few times before it seemed to hit her. "Oh my God," she said quietly, her hands withdrawing from Artie's to cover her mouth as her eyes welled with tears. "I'm... I'm really _pregnant_? But Jerry said...!"

"It was unlikely, but not impossible," Dr. Fleischer finished for her, his smile spreading from ear to ear. "You're about three weeks along, according to the sample—"

Artie didn't even hear the rest of the sentence. He felt as if someone had stuffed cotton in his ears, blurring the sounds of the world around him, minus the beating of his heart. He didn't even realise he was crying until he felt Tina's fingers on his cheek, brushing away the silent tears.

He had never been so happy.

* * *

_x._

When Artie was twenty-three, just six months later, his wife was constantly unable to sleep. It seemed that there was always something wrong; the baby was awake and moving around, her back hurt, her brain was too awake, the rain was too loud— all these things made Tina a sudden insomniac, and soon even _Let It Be_ didn't seem to help.

When Tina couldn't sleep, Artie couldn't sleep— her constant moving and groaning and talking to him kept him up into the wee hours of the morning. He slowly went through his Beatles' repertoire, each night trying out a medley of new songs, none of which worked as well as _Let It Be_ used to.

One night, after a particularly long string of failed songs, Artie was too tired to keep trying. His hand was resting lightly on Tina's rounded stomach, and he was marvelling in how his child kept kicking long into the night— he or she was definitely a night owl. (They wanted the gender to be a surprise.)

"The baby isn't settling down again," Tina murmured sleepily, stating the obvious.

"Mm," Artie agreed, just as their little monster violently bumped against his palm. "_Picture yourself in a boat on a river,_" he sang gently, yawning and blinking blearily. "_With tangerine trees and marmalade skies._"

"What song is that?" Tina asked, threading her fingers through his so that their entwined hands rested over her baby-bump.

"_Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds _by the Beatles," he answered softly, letting his eyes drift shut as he recalled the lyrics to the remarkably trippy song. "_Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly, a girl with kaleidoscope eyes._" Tina yawned and cuddled closer, nudging one of his legs out of the way so that she could slip her cold toes underneath his warm thigh. (Not that he noticed.)

"_Cellophane flowers of yellow and green, towering over your head. Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes, and she's gone_." Artie was slowly singing himself to sleep more than anything, but he kept going, until he slowly drifted off."_Lucy in the sky with diamonds, Lucy in the sky with diamonds, Lucy in the sky..._"

When Tina woke the next morning, after what was perhaps the best sleep she'd had in three months, she nudged her husband into wakefulness and demanded he learn that song off by heart; it had put their son or daughter to sleep, and she never wanted to have to go another sleepless night (at least until they had a screaming infant to tend to).

Artie obediently looked up the rest of the lyrics (he only knew the first verse by chance, and had no idea what had prompted him to sing that particular song, but he was glad that he had) and practiced the simple melody on his guitar, so that the following night, when their child was once again awake and rowdy, he was prepared to serenade him or her. And, just like the night before, he or she calmed down almost as soon as he began to sing. It was really quite amazing.

"_Follow her down to a bridge by a fountain, where rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies. Everyone smiles as you drift past the flowers that grow so incredibly high._"

"Those are perhaps the strangest lyrics I have ever heard," Tina commented, lazily drawing circles on his shoulder as he wrapped a protective arm around her stomach. "Cellophane flowers? Rocking horse people? I mean, where in the world did they come up with these things?"

"It probably was an LSD-induced jam session," Artie grumbled, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of Tina's breathing (the only thing on the planet that could get him to relax like this).

"Probably." Tina sighed as their child gently bumped against her insides. Sometimes it seemed as if he or she were doing continuous somersaults, flipping around in there like she was trying to escape. "The baby has started again, Artie." She rolled her eyes toward him, pulling her _fix it or I'll hurt you_ face. He quickly continued the song from where he'd left off.

"_Newspaper taxis appear on the shore, waiting to take you away. Climb in the back with your head in the clouds, and you're gone,_" Artie sang softly, lowering his face so that it was level with Tina's stomach, hoping to lull the baby into sleep. "_Lucy in the sky with diamonds, Lucy in the sky with diamonds, Lucy in the sky with diamonds, ah-ah._"

* * *

_xi._

When Artie was still twenty-three, he thought his wife might just break his fingers she was squeezing them so hard. After nearly ten hours of labour, they were finally getting to the "hard part." (Tina would say later that the whole thing had been the "hard part" and that the doctors were all complete idiots if they thought there was an "easy part.") Artie did the only thing he thought could calm her down. He sang their song to her.

"_When I find myself in times of trouble Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. Let it be, let it be. Whisper words of wisdom, let it be_," he sang gently next to her ear, pressing his lips to her forehead between each breath he took. He was scared to look at what was happening two feet away, so he closed his eyes and prayed for the safe delivery of their miracle baby.

When less than ten minutes later there was a strong cry from the doctor's arms, Artie's tears further wet Tina's already sweat-matted hair. The doctor's announcement of "It's a girl!" was the most wonderful thing in the world, and the sound of his daughter's mewling cries were the only thing he heard after that. His heart broke a thousand times for that tiny baby girl squirming as a nurse rushed to clean her face and wrap her in a blanket, and he knew as he saw his daughter for the first time that he would do anything for her.

The doctor handed the newborn to her mother, and Tina couldn't utter a word as her eyes met Artie's, but there was a mutual understanding shared between them during that glance. When Tina ran a thumb over their baby's cheek, there was only one thing to be said. "Hello, little Lucy," were the first words their beautiful baby girl heard her mother say to her. "You're perfect. Artie, she's perfect."

She _was_ perfect. She had lightly tanned skin and pink cheeks, with dark blue, almond-shaped eyes and a patch of dark hair atop her head. Her crying had stopped once she was placed in Tina's arms, and now her tiny pink lips were jutted outward it the most adorable pout.

"Hi, Lucy," Artie murmured, reaching out a shaking hand to pet the top of her head, his glasses foggy with tears of happiness. "I love you." He looked at his wife, who had a look of awe gracing her features. "And I love _you_ too." He leaned in and kissed her, then leaned his forehead against hers. "I have two beautiful, wonderful girls."

* * *

_i._

When Lucy Abrams was six, her brother Benjamin was born. She watched the way her parents looked at him when they brought him home from the hospital, with such unconditional love in their eyes. Unlike most children her age, Lucy didn't feel jealous over the sudden change in attention-getting; she looked upon her brother's face with the same unconditional love that her parents did.

She saw the same look in her father's eyes every night when he sang her to sleep with _Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds_, her absolute _favourite_ song, and in her mother's eyes when she won the first-grade spelling bee. Lucy was only six, but she decided then that she couldn't wait to be a mother. She wanted to love something so unconditionally, like the way her parents loved her and Ben.

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
